


make yourself at home, and i'll want you to stay

by its_tortle



Series: stucky one shots [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpine ships it, Alpine the Cat, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Jokes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Cats, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Gay Bucky Barnes, Getting Together, Humor, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, References to The Office (US), Texting, catching feelings, more like fuck buddies honestly, no beta we die like jason's hope of getting laid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29402757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_tortle/pseuds/its_tortle
Summary: "But then Steve starts talking to Alpine in a low voice, calling her pretty and lovely and smart, and Bucky melts.Fuck.He’s not supposed to like Steve this much."ORthe one where steve and bucky are just fuck buddies but bucky catches feelings because steve is so good with his cat.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: stucky one shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932520
Comments: 43
Kudos: 206





	make yourself at home, and i'll want you to stay

**Author's Note:**

> saw [this post](https://its-tortle.tumblr.com/post/642751941700616192/nympholouis-au/) and just had to write it. 
> 
> ([rey](https://smallkindofdisaster.tumblr.com/) kindly informed me that [this wonderful fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075838) already exists, but my motivation had already hit full force, so i thought i’d try and give it another whirl.)
> 
> title (almost) from i think he knows by taylor swift

**

Bucky is sprawled out on the sofa, trying to decide whether he wants to order Vietnamese or Indian takeout when the notification bar pops up on top of his screen.

_Are you free tonight?_

It’s pavlovian, really, the way Bucky’s dick is immediately half interested. He actually has a whole lot of work to do tomorrow, so maybe he shouldn’t. But then again, how could he deny himself just about the best ass he’s ever had.

For the sake of feigned nonchalance though, he contemplates for a moment before he responds.

_i could make myself b free_

The response comes almost immediately.

_Let me guess._

_You’re on the sofa trying to decide which takeout to order._

And Bucky really shouldn’t be surprised at how well Steve knows him, but it still flatters him more than it should.

They’ve been hooking up for more than half a year, so of course Steve is going to have learned a few things about Bucky. Bucky’s learned more than a few things about Steve, too.

Like the fact that Steve is obnoxiously chipper in the morning, and that he goes for sunrise jogs by choice. Or that he loves almonds in savory food and black coffee. He thinks Creed is the funniest character on The Office. He used to have asthma and scoliosis and a heart murmur, and is a total momma’s boy. Bucky also knows exactly how to turn Steve on, where he likes to be touched, what he likes to be called, he sees all the signs when Steve’s about to come.

And that last part is the important part, really. All the other stuff is just details, things that he picked up without meaning to.

They hook up, make each other come. That’s what they do. Bucky had blown Steve when he was half drunk at some colleague’s party, and then Steve had returned the favor and entered his number in Bucky’s phone, telling him to text sometime. And Bucky had.

Not because there’s that great a lack of other options, but because he and Steve work well together. They both know it’s not more than fucking, there’s no expectiations, but they also get along well enough to eat leftovers and watch The Office between rounds. Steve’s funny, and passionate, and gorgeous. And _really_ good at sex.

So, Bucky swings his legs off of the end of the couch -- startling Alpine, who gives him a look that suggests he just murdered her family -- and shoots a text back.

_u know me 2 well_

He can almost feel Steve’s smug look through the phone.

_Give me fifteen minutes._

Bucky takes a quick shower because he hadn’t all day and doesn’t bother putting underwear on under his sweatpants when he puts his clothes back on. He leaves his long-ish hair open and sprays on a pit of cologne, not because he wants to impress Steve or anything, but because it helps him get in the mood. 

When he walks back into the living area with less than five minutes to spare, Alpine is yelling at him for food. Sometimes Bucky wonders if she can read the clock.

“Okay, Jesus,” Bucky tells her, “calm down. Stop pretending I never feed you.”

She just meows louder. Menace.

He fills up the bowl, reveling in the fact that she actually lets him get a few pets in when she’s eating. He loves her to bits, he really does, but she’s not particularly prone to loving him back.

Maybe once a week she’ll love him for a few minutes, but otherwise it’s all glares and premeditated attacks on his ankles and deliberately breaking his mugs and glasses. He shouldn’t be surprised really, having found her in a dumpster.

The shrill noise of the doorbell rings through the apartment and both Alpine and Bucky look up.

Checking his hair in the hallway mirror one more time -- he wants to look hot, okay? -- Bucky goes to open the door. Steve stands behind it in all his abominable beauty, thin t-shirt stretching obscenely over his chest and arms.

“Hey,” he smiles.

“Hey.”

Bucky lets himself be kissed hello and revels in the sweet taste of Steve’s lips.

Alpine weaves her way between their legs, meowing loudly.

“Seriously?” Bucky laments. “You were in the middle of eating.”

Steve looks amused as he leans down to greet the feline, telling her how pretty and incredible she is in a sugary voice all along. He smiles as Alpine leans into his offering hand and purrs into his warmth.

And look, Bucky gets it because _same_ , but how dare she like Steve better than him? She’s _his_ cat. He’s the one who feeds her twice a day and spends all his money on toys she chooses to ignore. It’s evil.

“Okay, enough, both of you,” he proclaims after about five moments too long.

Steve rises with a smug grin, Alpine winding through his (sexy, gorgeous, incredible) legs. “What? Are you mad cause she likes me more than you?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t.”

“I mean, I am a highly likable person.” Steve is still wearing that same shit-eating grin.

“We both know that’s not true, punk. You’re an asshole.”

Steve hums, leans in close and crowds Bucky into the wall, because sometimes he likes to pretend he’s not a giant sappy sub. “Asshole’s all yours.”

“That’s the worst line I’ve ever heard.”

But he doesn’t complain when Steve reconnects their lips and starts fiddling with the hem of Bucky’s shirt, because maybe he really likes that asshole. And everything else attached to it.

  
  


Forty-five minutes later, tired and sated and warm, Steve curls up in the crook of Bucky’s elbow and Bucky lets him, carding his fingers through the soft golden hair. Steve is always so useless and sleepy after, and so cuddly. Bucky kind of loves it. He breathes in Steve’s scent, which has become so wonderfully familiar to him

Then, through the door Bucky had left partially open when he had gotten a wet cloth to clean himself and a sleepy Steve up, Alpine creeps in. Not caring that they’re both still very much naked and that the room smells of sex, she jumps up onto the bed and curls up on Steve’s mostly empty pillow. She lays her head partly on his neck.

Steve lazily lifts a hand and strokes through the fur on her upper back one, two, three times before it falls away. Alpine _purrs_ and doesn't even yell at him when he stops so soon.

“Bitch,” Bucky whispers into the dim light.

Alpine glares at him for a moment before she settles into her spot -- on top of a hickey, oops -- and closes her eyes. Steve chuckles lowly.

“Shut up,” he smiles. “Sleep.”

“Stop seducing my cat.”

Steve laughs again, and then he’s out like a light.

  
  


-

Bucky must have dozed off too, because when he wakes, it’s fully dark outside and Steve is half sitting-up beside him. 

Alpine is on Steve’s lap, purring again and thoroughly enjoying being stroked by those big artistic hands. She looks so content, and Steve looks at her so lovingly that it takes Bucky aback for a moment.

It’s so beautiful and soft, so _domestic_. And Bucky likes it. Hell, he loves it. 

Sudden and unbidden, the thought crosses Bucky’s mind that he wants to wake up this all the damn time. He shuts it down.

But then Steve starts talking to Alpine in a low voice, calling her pretty and lovely and smart, and Bucky _melts_. 

Fuck.

He’s not supposed to like Steve this much.

“Morning,” he grumbles, if just to distract himself from his stupid brain.

Steve turns to him with a soft smile. “It’s three thirty AM.”

“That’s morning.”

Steve laughs a quiet laugh, appropriate for the dark of Bucky’s bedroom. 

They lay in silence for a long moment. Steve takes the hand that isn’t petting Alpine from where it was lying by Bucky’s collarbone and begins to card through his hair. Bucky closes his eyes and sighs into the movement.

They must make for a funny scene, the three of them. Two of them leaning into Steve’s touch.

“Why are we up at three thirty in the morning?” Bucky asks after a long moment. 

He can hear Steve smile. “Because we fell asleep at like eight.”

Bucky opens his eyes groggily. “It’s not my fault you fall asleep ten seconds after you come like some 1950s husband.”

Steve laughs. Bucky watches. Why has he never noticed how bright and pretty Steve looks when he’s laughing?

Steve notices Bucky’s stare and looks over at him with a curious glance. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky asserts. “Pancakes?”

“Hell yeah.”

Slowly but surely, they untangle their legs and rise from the mess of Bucky’s bed. Alpine mewls once, but it’s only half upset and she immediately calms when Steve leans down and gives her two pats on the head. Bucky glares.

“Maybe if you stopped glaring at your cat like that she’d like you,” Steve suggests with that smug smirk of his.

Bucky punches him lightly on his (way too big and firm) bicep. “Shut up. I didn’t start it, she did.”

“Sure.”

“She did!”

Steve just hums.

Bucky punches him on his (way too big and firm) bicep again. 

They find their way to the kitchen to make pancakes, Alpine on their tail. 

Bucky has some blueberries left over from the muffins he made a few days back, so they add those to the mixed batter while Steve hums along to the Taylor Swift he’s put on. 

Neither of them are particularly adept in the kitchen, but they make do. While the first few pancakes come out looking more like Kaiserschmarn, they actually have some whole ones by the end. Either way, they taste good.

They eat sprawled out on the sofa with The Office playing in the background -- as per usual. Alpine jumps up onto their laps, which she _knows_ she’s not supposed to do when someone’s eating, but then Steve is smiling at her with warm eyes and feeding her a blueberry and Bucky doesn’t have the heart to push her down. 

He really needs to get a grip.

He tunes into what Steve is telling him, something about an unbearably messy roommate, and expresses his sympathies.

And then, because tired Bucky is nothing but self-centered, he goes off on a long tangent about his college roommate’s embarrassing sexscapades until Steve is holding his laughter-shaken chest. 

“So, he asked _me_ to help him get it out of his ass, because he’s like ‘Baxter, you’re gay, you can do it’, and I’m like ‘sorry, what? Just because I’m gay it doesn’t mean I want to see your dirty asshole, Brendon.’ ”

“Wait,” Steve breathes through his laughter. “He didn’t even know your name?”

“No!”

Steve laughs again, and Bucky saves the glass he almost knocks off the living room table from falling to the floor. It takes Steve a few long moments to calm down, and when he does, he looks over at Bucky with a warm look. 

His cheeks are red from the laughter and his hair is messy and Bucky really wishes he could draw half as well as he knows Steve can.

Suddenly, Steve’s look turns pensive. “You were out in freshman year?”

Bucky frowns. “Of college? Yeah. I came out in junior high.”

Steve hums and looks back to where Jan is trying to lead a conference on female leadership.

“What about you?”, Bucky asks, suddenly curious.

Steve pauses for just a moment. “Like, last year.”

Bucky startles for a moment. It’s not- _bad_ , or anything, but holy shit that’s recent. Steve is twenty-seven.

The matter is private, and it’s not something Bucky should keep asking about, as per their unspoken contract. But he wants to know, so he opens his stupid mouth. 

“Why?”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Alpine, somehow sensing the weird energy that has taken over to room, jumps up onto Steve’s lap and attempts to eat some of the pancake off of his plate. But, because Steve is some supernatural kind of perfect, he holds her back like he knows that cats can’t eat dairy.

On screen, Micheal interrupts the session for a fourth time when Steve finally opens his mouth again.

“I just didn’t get it until really late, I guess? Like, I’m bi, so I always knew I like women just fine, and there was never any reason to look into why my posters were always of Luke and not Leia.”

Bucky hums. 

“Plus,” Steve adds with a rueful smile. “I got called the f-word so much by assholes growing up, I didn’t really want to prove them right.”

“Shit,” Bucky breathes, for lack of anything better to say. He immediately feels stupid.

“It’s fine-” Steve starts, but Bucky cuts him off.

“It’s not. I mean, I’m glad you’re out and fucking guys now, but it’s not _fine._ ” 

Suddenly, Bucky is _mad_. He’s genuinely angry. Because some bastards decided that it was okay to call the little guy a f*g for no real reason, give him internalized homophobia, and then the world gaslighted him into thinking it’s fine when it’s not.

But then suddenly he also feels incredibly fond, and proud. Steve is the most righteous person Bucky has ever met, with a big heart and a strong moral compass and so so much compassion, and to hear that he grew up to be this way with what is essentially a classic villain origin story makes it so much more valuable. 

Bucky got a good one without really meaning to. Hell, he got the best one. He kind of wishes he didn’t know. Because he didn’t really get him, after all, did he? Steve isn’t his.

_Fuck_.

He wants him to be.

He takes a deep breath to calm himself down -- both from the anger and the revelation -- and rakes a hand through his hair.

“You okay?” Steve asks.

Bucky gives him a look. “Am I really the one that needs to be asked that question right now?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Steve shrugs. “You are the one loudly sighing and being melodramatic, so.”

Bucky picks one of the pillows off the sofa and swings it at Steve. He dodges it easily.

Alpine hisses, and then turns her butt toward Bucky while she settles in Steve’s lap.

Bucky hates the way it makes his heart skip a beat.

  
  


\---

  
  


Nothing much changes between them after that night.

Steve comes over three times in the next two weeks, and they fuck and eat and fuck again. They reach season four of The Office for the second time. 

They have shower sex once, which is memorable in that it’s hot and wonderful and also in that Bucky almost breaks his hip. Steve won’t stop apologizing at first, even though it was Bucky’s idea in the first place, but then Steve won’t stop making fun of him for it and Bucky doesn’t know which is worse. He hits Steve with lots of pillows, but the motherfucker dodges them all.

Alpine still seems to tolerate Bucky and adore Steve, and Steve still cooes and gives her cuddles and calls her a beautiful girl a lot. Bucky calls her a bitch.

It’s normal. It’s good.

Except that the rush of affection Bucky feels whenever he watches Steve with Alpine has translated into a constant rush of affection whenever he watches Steve doing anything. He can’t stop it.

He’s suddenly hyper-aware of how soft Steve’s hair is when he buries his face in it in the afterglow, and of how long and pretty Steve’s fingers are. He lights up when he makes Steve laugh and goes four blocks out of his way to buy Steve’s favorite coffee. He watches Steve’s long crooked nose scrunch up at the end when he doesn’t like something and wants nothing more than to lean over and kiss it, even when they’re just on the sofa waiting for their takeout to arrive.

The sex is different too, for Bucky. Better, more alive. It’s like every already ignited nerve ending of his has been dialed up to ten. Each time, his world whittles down to nothing but Steve’s pale skin and his red-bitten lips and the little sighs he makes when Bucky sinks into him. He lives for it, it’s his sole purpose.

In short, he’s fucked. 

One Friday night, Bucky sees Steve on Clint’s Instagram story, out at a bar with their group of friends. Knowing it’s wrong even as he does it, he screenshots the picture just so that he can zoom in on the pretty blonde hanging off of Steve’s arm. Her name is Sharon, judging by the tag on Sam’s post the next morning, and Bucky hates her. He hates her for leaning into Steve like that and then hates Steve for leaning back.

Bucky makes the split second decision to open Grindr that night, for the first time in months. 

He matches with a good-looking guy named Jason and invites him over after very little prelude. There’s not much point in sugar-coating it, really, since they both know what they want.

When Bucky opens the door, he’s relieved to find that Jason actually looks like his picture. He’s polite, too, taking off his shoes when he sees Bucky in socks and giving Bucky some overused but flattering line.

And he’s a decent kisser. They’re making out on the sofa and Bucky is pleased to note that he and his dick are actually totally interested and on board. Maybe he was being dramatic about Steve, this is fine. He can totally get over it.

Jason is kissing down his neck hot and open-mouthed and Bucky is fiddling with the hem of his shirt when suddenly they’re interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen.

They pull apart in surprise and look over to where Alpine is glaring over at them from the kitchen. She had knocked down an entire (luckily empty) pot from the counter, and she looked _proud_.

“What the fuck, Al?” Bucky swears, and detangles himself from Jason with an apology.

He shoos Alpine off of the counter and picks up the pot, puts it back inside the cabinet this time. He’s used to having to put his mugs and glasses away out of her reach but _pots_ ? She’s reached a new level of villainy.

“Jesus, fuck!”

Bucky whips around to find Alpine slinking away after what was clearly an attack on Jason’s legs. He glares after her and whispers something unintelligible, rubbing at his ankles.

“You okay?” Bucky asks.

Jason gets up from the couch and comes toward him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Your cat’s a menace though, isn’t he?”

“She,” Bucky corrects. Not that it matters.

Jason just hums and pulls Bucky back in, but suddenly his hand on Bucky’s wrist is all wrong and Bucky can’t do this.

Jason doesn’t like Alpine. Alpine doesn’t like him.

And it’s fucking ridiculous that it bothers Bucky so much, but it _does_. Because only Bucky is allowed to call Alpine a menace, and she’s supposed to curl up in bed with Bucky in the afterglow. Steve is supposed to laugh and call her pretty as she buts her head against his hand. 

This is all wrong.

“I think you should go,” he tells Jason as he turns out of his grip.

“What?”

“I just- I want you to go.”

Jason looks at him with a look somewhere between incredulous and angry. “Dude, what the fuck? You were the one that invited me over.”

“I know, sorry.” Bucky runs a frustrated hand through his hair, because he _knows_ , okay? He knows that this is a shitty thing of him to do, but he just wants Jason to leave so that he can throw his own little pity party.

“Is this because of your cat? What the fuck? I-”

“Just go.” He doesn’t want to talk about it.

Jason rolls his eyes as he grabs his shoes and jacket. “Thanks for wasting my time, asshole.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says, but then the door sound of the slamming door is already ringing through the empty apartment. Which is fair.

Bucky looks around at the messed up pillows and the kitchen he’d cleaned up for no other reason than to seem put-together, and suddenly he just wants to cry.

He settles for curling up on the couch, wrapping the fluffy throw blanket around himself, and wallowing in his own misery. He pushes his face into a pillow and wills it to soak up all of his stupid dumb feelings. Because that’s what they are: Stupid Dumb Feelings.

“Fuck.”

Alpine comes wandering back into the living room then, jumping up onto the coffee table and sniffing at the vanilla candles Bucky loves so much. She looks completely unnerved at the fact that she just single-handedly ruined Bucky’s night.

(She didn’t, but she sure as hell didn’t help either.)

“You happy now?”, Bucky asks her. “That sucked, Al. Why’d you do that, huh?”

She looks up at him with her big pretty eyes and meows quietly, and suddenly Bucky can’t be mad anymore. He’s just so fucking tired and so fucking sad.

“I know, baby,” he sighs. “I like Steve best, too.”

Alpine meows again, and then, against all odds, she jumps from the table onto the sofa and settles in the crook of Bucky’s elbow. She stretches out against his chest, and he begins carding through the soft fur on her stomach.

She purrs.

Bucky’s wounded little heart soars.

  
  


\--- 

  
  


Four days later, Alpine is purring into Steve’s hand again.

Bucky had barely opened the door and said hello when Alpine rushed past him and weaved her way through Steve’s legs. It’s unbearably frustrating and unbearably cute.

Steve looks so pleased with himself as he leans down and talks to her in his sugary sweet voice. He scratches her behind the ears and tells her how much he missed her.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Is that how it is, huh?”

Steve hums in affirmative, smiles a smug smile, and looks up at Bucky through his ridiculous (beautiful) lashes. Alpine meows.

Bucky can’t stop smiling. 

“Get up here, you big idiot.”

Steve’s smile widens and then he’s in Bucky’s space, kissing him hello.

It’s the usual greeting kiss, short and sweet and just a tiny bit teasing, and Bucky should leave it at that, but he can’t, so he takes Steve’s face in his hands and deepens it, pulling Steve inside and closing the door with his foot.

Steve makes a small noise of surprise, but then he’s threading his hands in Bucky’s hair and letting himself be pushed into the wall. He sighs against Bucky’s mouth

It’s not until Bucky’s hands are under Steve’s shirt that he pulls back, one hand on Bucky’s shoulder to push him away. He’s breathing heavily, gorgeous and red-lipped and so hot that Bucky just stares.

“You okay?” he asks, his eyes searching.

“Hm.” 

He pulls Steve back in, because that’s the only important thing right now.

Steve dodges his kiss. “Bucky.”

“What?” Bucky huffs.

“Are you okay?”

Bucky frowns, looking at pretty Steve and his worried eyes. He has no patience to talk about his well-being. “Does it matter?”

Steve dodges his kiss again. 

“Yes,” he says insistently. “What’s up with you?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Nothing.”

Steve looks unimpressed.

“Look,” Bucky tries. “It’s been a long week. Ask me all about it once you’ve fucked me. Deal?”

Steve still looks unimpressed, but there’s a smile building on the corners of his mouth and his eyes go a little fond. He makes no move.

Bucky raises an eyebrow.

Steve’s resolve breaks. “Fine.”

Bucky grins and pulls Steve back in by his neck, the other hand back under his shirt. Steve crowds him to the bedroom.

They close the door in Alpine’s face, and can’t help but laugh when she meows loudly from the hall. But then Steve starts kissing down Bucky’s chest and he stops thinking about Alpine altogether.

\- 

“So what happened this week?”

Bucky looks up from where he’s pouring penne into boiling water. “Nothing, really. Just had a lot of work.”

Steve looks at him like he doesn’t quite believe him, but says nothing. It’s not like they have a lot of heart to hearts. Bucky doesn't always know how Steve is either. 

They’re stress relief, good sex. That’s all.

Steve crowds Bucky out of the kitchen though, and finishes cutting the tomatoes and warming up the sauce. He knows where every pot and utensil is, like it’s his kitchen. Bucky hates that he takes it to heart.

They eat to the Dinner Party episode and share a bottle of wine. Steve tangles their ankles together under the throw blanket, the same one Bucky was wallowing in a few days back. Bucky can feel Steve’s legs move every time he laughs.

In true Alpine fashion, she tries to both eat off their plates and drink from their glasses, but two watchful pairs of eyes keep her at bay. She only glares a few times, mostly at Bucky.

It’s Bucky who gets up to clear their plates, because it was Steve who did most of the preparation. He puts them in the sink to deal with later and grabs a bag of M&M's out of the cabinet. The blue ones, because they’re Steve’s favorite. 

When he walks back into the living room, it’s to the sight of Alpine spread out over Steve’s chest, purring loudly. Steve is stroking her fur languidly while narrating the Office episode for her in a low voice.

And Bucky?

Bucky thinks he might be in love.

“I sent a guy home the other day cause he didn’t get along with Al,” he says suddenly.

Steve turns his head and looks at Bucky with wide eyes. He’s silent for a moment. 

“Is that the test?” he asks then, turning back to Alpine as Bucky sits down on the sofa beside him. He absent-mindedly hands Bucky some blanket.

“It wasn’t,” Bucky confesses. “But turns out she’s an excellent judge of character.”

Steve smiles wide and bright. “I like her, too. And you.”

Bucky, who between the two of them was never the bashful one, feels himself blush a little. Jesus. “Same, obviously.”

Both smiling, they turn back to the TV. Steve opens the M&M's.

“When was this?” Steve asks suddenly. “Could’ve called me.”

Bucky feels his smile drop at the bitter memory of why he didn’t. “It was Friday. You were out with Clint and Sam and Sharon and stuff.”

“You still could’ve called. I was out of there by, like, ten thirty.” He pops a few M&M's into his mouth.

“You-” Bucky’s mind reels. “Wait, you aren’t- You didn’t go home with Sharon?”

Steve looks up at that. “What? No. Why would I go home with Sharon?”

Bucky huffs out a pathetic laugh. “I don’t know.”

“Wait, do you know her? I didn’t think you’d met.” 

“No, I don’t,” Bucky says, then realizes that he should’ve said he did. At Steve’s curious look, he adds, “Sam tagged her in his post.”

Steve gives him an amused look.

“What?” Bucky defends. “I was curious. You seemed close”

Steve hums, and turns back to the TV with a smile. “Well,” he draws out, “we’re not. She’s Peggy’s cousin, it would be weird.”

“Right.”

Bucky has no right to feel as relieved as he does, but he breathes out around his smile all the same. He steals a few M&M’s from the bag next to Steve’s leg.

It starts raining outside, wind whipping the drops against Bucky’s windows in a mesmerizing patter. Dwight and Michael sing American Pie.

“You can call me anytime, you know?” Steve says matter-of-factly. “I mean, just to hang out, too.”

Bucky turns to him with a grin. “Yeah? I’m hanging out material?”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “I mean, is that not what we’re doing right now?”

“I guess,” Bucky smiles. “But also we’re waiting for our dicks to recharge.”

Steve barks out a laugh, startling a sleepy Alpine. He apologizes to her in a low voice and gives her a few long strokes until her eyes close again. 

He looks down at her even as he opens his mouth again. “Well, call me up for that any time, too, obviously. Even when I’m out with some friends, ‘cause I’m, uh-” He hesitates. “I’m not actually sleeping with anyone else right now, so. Dick’s all yours.” 

Bucky feels himself freeze. “You aren’t?”

“Is that weird?” Steve asks as he turns to look back up at Bucky. “I know we’re not exclusive, but I just-”

“Do you want to be?” 

Bucky didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that, but he’s on his third glass of wine and Alpine is asleep on Steve and he’s only human. Also, he has Stupid Dumb Feelings.

Steve just stares back at his nervous expression, his look somewhere between amused and hopeful. “Is that you asking?”

Bucky swallows and looks down at his chipped nail polish. “I mean, you get along with my evil demon cat and you’re passionate about tipping the delivery guy and you’re funny and talented and drop dead gorgeous. And good at sex. And I really like you, so.”

“I really like you, too.”

Bucky looks up with wide eyes. “You do?”

Steve smiles. “Mmh. And your beautiful angel cat.”

“Oh god,” Bucky snorts. “You only like me for my cat, don’t you.”

“Exactly,” Steve grins, but then he pushes Alpine off of his chest so that he can kiss Bucky and climb into his lap.

Bucky smiles into the kiss, holding nothing back, just as he can feel Steve isn’t. And, _Christ_ , it somehow feels exactly like every kiss they’ve ever shared, but it’s a million times better. Bucky can’t wait to kiss Steve whenever he wants to.

Neither of them notice the dirty look Alpine gives them, nor would they much care. Their beautiful evil angel demon cat will be thoroughly showered with thanks later.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are writing fuel! let me know what you think!
> 
> consider [reblogging](https://its-tortle.tumblr.com/post/643023647825674240/5k-modern-au-fuck-buddies-to-lovers-heavily/) ?
> 
> i live on [tumblr](https://its-tortle.tumblr.com/). i'm taking prompts all week! (and generally, too)


End file.
